


The Unfortunate Ones

by skiiish367



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, No androids...but a twist, Other, Panic Attacks, Plot Twists, Possessive Behavior, Protective Connor, Story is better than summary, They are all younger in this story, Violence, Zombies are called Unfortunates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiiish367/pseuds/skiiish367
Summary: "Wait. You knew them?!" There is a long pause, before the girl continues, voice far too mature for her age "Like...personally?""I knew all of them," Gavin murmured, unsure if he could trust this child. Whether or not she was still human. "At least, I thought I did. Once. A long time ago.""What were they like?"A crumpled smile found it's way to Gavin's lips and he let out a small chuckled, sounding more like broken sobs than laughter. He leaned closer to the little girl, whispering as though he were telling a secret. "There were going to change the fucking world."And around them, the world burned





	1. Big black Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeriels_Stories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriels_Stories/gifts).



> This story is a remake of my other story...for a Drarry Fanfiction, but I decided to turn it to a Gavin/Connor story. All thanks to make-sterek-canon on tumblr for this prompt. This story is dedicated to them!
> 
> P.S They are all younger in this story. And thank fuck to pinterest for all these amazing plot prompts and idea, like honestly...I can't get enough of them. Ever stuck on a story idea, or can't figure out how to write your summary? Go to Pinterest and search 'Writing prompts.' Like...you will be A-M-A-Z-E-D!
> 
> They are so good, and honestly...I don't know where I'd be without them.

_‘My name is...’_

Her name? She supposed it really didn’t matter much matter much now. Back at the hideout, it was the only thing that they could could grasp onto and call their own. The only real thing, that reminded them they were still alive, breathing... _surviving_.

Funny, now that she put her mind into it. Her fingers convulsed, the marker slipping past her bruised fingertips, and falling onto the floor, the sound barely audible to her own ears. The snarling, shrieking of the freaks, only a door from breaking away had filled her head. It was almost like music, _a melody._ Flowing so gently in with the air, putting her mind in a fabricated daze. A feeling....music that only she...or rather the unfortunate ones could hear. And an unfortunate never lived long enough to play their soundtrack. _Her_ soundtrack.

She wanted to laugh. Laugh so badly, but all that would escape her parted lips was a pained groan. So she allowed herself a smile. Lips wavering, threatening to falter back to their plain ol’ frown.

Her friends wouldn’t like that. They liked seeing her smile, even if it was in this hellhole. Shaking, she wobbled up onto the soles of her blistered feet, her legs trembling with every stretch of her bones.

Black hair drenched in blood and matted to her face. She brushed them back with a convulsing hand careful not to let any of the blood fall into her eyes or her mouth. She let a shaky breath, and moved along the wall, trying to make way to an exit. She had to survive. Survive.

That was her life’s purpose. To survive, or die trying. Another step along the wall, and her legs turned to jelly, pain shooting up from her ankle all the way to her pelvis. Broken foot. Not good. No-it..it wasn’t good at all.

She let out a cry of despair, as the doors from the other side of the warehouse burst open. The unfortunates sweeping in, tongues sticking out like slobbering dogs in a heat. Stumbling on their feet, climbing on top of each other, in a race to see who could get to her first. _So much hate_...and it was all for her. The melody grew slowly, reaching its climax.

And she broke.

So when that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Sobs to incoherent cries for help poured from her mouth like vomit.

“No no no no no NO _NO!!_ ” she sobbed, curling up tighter into a ball. “PLEASE! _PLEASE!!!_ ”

The unfortunates were drawing nearer, and she gripped onto her weapon. A small handgun, with only a bullet left. It trembled in her hands, threatening to fell just like the marker from before. Closing her eyes, took a broken breath, placing aim to the gun.

Her eyes looked out to find a window...any window. _None._ She let out a small chuckle, sounding more like gasps for air, and coughs. Huh, it seemed even when she was going to die and unlike the movies, there would be no last look to the sky. No last bask of sunlight, or a tree...or chocolate or grass or the smiles of her friends or kisses or the last piece of gum she’d saved for later or late-night walks or the night or the moon or stars or....or _the ocean._

Just big black nothingness, and the melody playing by the unfortunates. It was getting louder. She could hear the snarling and the gurgles. The shrieks and screams that drowned her own. The head of the pistol pressed deeper into her forehead, and she closed her eyes, trying to imagine the setting sun of the Cuban beaches. The waves of water rushing up to her ankles as her feet sunk slightly into the sand. The breeze dancing through her wet hair, as the salty smell of the ocean would engulf her senses. And the sunset. _Oh, the sunset._

It’d be beautiful. Coral skies, with small brushstrokes of white as though they were angel wings. A bright yellow sun, basking its warmth to her skin, and for a moment it was as though she were truly there. Breathing in the fresh ocean air, and basking in the sunlight. The ghost of a smile graced her lips, and she pressed harder on the trigger. So close.

She’d have to do it before the moment ended. Before the sun disappeared, and she returned back to the warehouse. She has to do it. It’s a cowardly way out, but she’s scared and broken and terrified and... _and hopeful._

“Please..” she whispered, not sure to whom... _or why_. Maybe to the unfortunates to get them to spare her, or maybe to someone else out there. A survivor, that could hopefully save her. The sun was disappearing over the ocean, the last streaks of light shooting out like stars, piercing her eyes. This was it. The moment was going away.

When she was younger, she loved the idea of heroes. Of happy endings. The ones in the movies where the hero kisses the girl, and they live happily ever after. They never did show what happened after that, but it was nice to believe that nothing came after that. That that was it. Where it ended. Where everyone is happy, and loving. And there is no evil queen to ruin it all.

Seemed nice when she was younger, but she was learning. Late maybe, but as her final moments were drawing closer, she was beginning to see the lie. It was an inconvenient truth. Something she, nor anyone else could ever change. There was never any happy ending. _Not for her._

And as the final specks of sunlight crossed over the horizon, she pulled the trigger, fading away into nothing.

 

_Big black nothing._

 

_-o-_

 

“We have to go, Chris!!” Gavin yelled in a hushed whisper, tugging at his friend’s torn sleeve. “ _We have to fucking leave!_ ”

Chris didn’t seem to hear. He looked lost and if he heard what Gavin said, he showed no signs of it. “ _CHRIS!_ ”

The other boy gasped, and turned. Streams of tears, and puffy red eyes. His face wrinkled in an ugly manner. “S-she’s–” he paused, unsure as what to say. He looked broken, and Gavin felt helpless.

He let his head drop, and stilled. It was a show of respect. A final farewell. Gavin didn’t know whether she was dead yet or not. Maybe she was still alive, hidden in a far away place where the unfortunates couldn’t reach. Maybe she’s dead. Or maybe she’d waiting... _for them_ . For someone to save her, but he knows her screams would be drowned in the hide of the unfortunates. Barely clinging on to life, as they would rip their rotten teeth through her flesh, and she would scream. Scream _and scream_ , begging for Gavin and Chris to come save her. Promising to be better, to never go out late again, to never lie to her parents. To be good, and listen.

The thought alone made Gavin’s stomach churn, and twist. “P-please..we need..we need to go,” he stuttered, his words more a crackling whisper. Tears threatened to fall from his burning eyes, but he blinked them away. This was no time to be selfish.

They had to run, and quick!

Taking a couple steps forward, he smashed his bat onto one of the unfortunates that was making its way to Chris. It snarled, and reached out for his ankles from the ground. He stepped back, bashing at the head again and again and again...the feeling never got old. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, pulsing with every hit. With every _sickening_ crunch of the bones. Guts spilling, and blood spilling out like a horror movie murder scene.

They were gaining up on him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could carry on. His arms ached with every blow, and swing of his bat. Sweat dripped down from his forehead to his chin. He didn’t dare to lick it. It could’ve been mixed in with unfortunate blood, and no way in hell was he going turn by drinking in his own sweat. No matter how much his throat craved it.

A woman...who would’ve been no older than his mother came charging at him. Her feet twisting with an odd limp. Foot twisted behind her, with the bone jutting out from where her ankle should have been. She shrieked, no doubt trying to attract the attention of other unfortunates. Gavin swallowed the bile back down, and didn’t waste time in swinging his bat once more. Her guts spilling out from the bite marks from her stomach as she fell. She screeched and began scrambling towards him, dragging her torn body with her arms, snarling and biting along the way.

Gavin gasped falling back in surprise, the bat slipping away from his fingertips, and rolling away from him. The woman gained upon him, scrambling for him with her mouth gaping open, drool dripping out from her shattered teeth.

He scrambled backwards, trying to gain any distance between the unfortunate and him, but in no avail. His heart was thumping, words stuck at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to cry out for help, for someone. _Anyone._

_No one._

Just like there had been no one for _her_ . Crying, he kicked at the freak, trying to get away from her grasp, but it was relentless, scratching and clawing out for him. It’s eyes black, and soulless. And the hate. _Gods, the hate._

The freak leaped onto him, and he punched it in a desperate attempt to get it off. Her mouth snapped open, coming down to him. Gavin closed his eyes. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t. _He didn’t._

Gavin let out a choked sob, feeling the crushing weight on his chest. His lip trembled, and he froze. This was it. He was going to die, and her sacrifice would be for nothing. It would be nothing but a waste.

All for nothing.

Gavin gasped, when he felt the unfortunate fall onto his body limp. He could feel its teeth grazing his shoulder, but not biting. Still...and _unmoving_. Shots ran through the air, and he kicked the unfortunate off. He scrambled for his bat, and stood up, coming back to back with Chris. The moved around in a circle, watching each other’s back. Trusting one another with their lives.

“Took you long enough,” Gavin breathed out, giving his bat a small spin

“Yeah,” Chris panted, turning to give a wide grin. Gavin returned it, turning his gaze back to the unfortunates piling up on them, “Couldn’t keep you waiting forever, now could I?”

Gavin snorted, squaring up, “Guess not. Now let's end these motherfuckers.”

 

_-o-_

 

Gavin moved swiftly by the old house, Chris following close behind. They had long gotten away from the hoard of unfortunates. They’d rested, drinken the last of their water, and eaten the last can of beans. Neither of them dared to touch the final piece of gum that lay protected in the confinement of his pockets.

It was for her. Didn’t belong to him, or Chris...it belonged to _her_.

Neither of them had spoken a word of their loss. They hadn’t known what to say. Didn’t know whether they were supposed to cry, or hug....or laugh. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt _whole_.

Turning his attention back to the window, he slowly crept up, peeking inside. It was hard to see. The sun was long down, and the lights of the house had been kept off, for the same reasons as them. Still, he knew there were people inside. He’d heard their whispers...the shuffling.

There were people.

Living. Breathing. _People._

Neither of them had seen another human other than their own pair in _weeks_. He turned to give Chris a knowing look, but the raven only shook his head. “No,” Chris whispered. “We...can’t trust them.”

Gavin’s heart dropped the tiniest bit, but he knew Chris was right. He’d always been right. They couldn’t _afford_ to trust them. They didn’t know these people’s intentions or _ways_. In this world, it was either kill or be killed.

At the best case scenario, they would be robbed of their weapons if caught. Worst case scenario? Cannibalism. It wasn’t uncommon. When food became scarce, and all stores were stripped of their good, people had started to resort to eating one another. First, it started with the animals. Their pets. Dogs. Cats. Hamsters. You name it. Then it came down to the mice, and rats. They were a bitch to catch. And when that all ran out...it came down to one another. The weakest in the group would be killed, and chopped up. Cooked...sometimes raw, and given to the others to eat.

Gavin had never eaten another human before. Couldn’t bring himself to it. Couldn’t deal with the guilt that would follow after that. He knew Chris had though, even if the other never actually admitted it. Times were desperate, and Gavin understood that. He didn’t blame Chris. Just like Chris wouldn’t blame him if he were to do the same.

He gave the raven a reluctant nod, and quietly removed the netting from the window, before getting to work on unlocking it. Unlocking the window hadn’t taken long. A couple pulls at the small gaps between the window frame with a couple twists of the notch, and the window slips open with ease. He motioned for Chris to stay outside and keep watch. Chris gave a small sarcastic salute in return, and disappeared around the corner.

Gavin crept in from the window, careful not to knock anything over or make any noise. He wanted to _see_ these people. Wanted to _talk_ to them. Make a bigger group, but that was always a risk. A risk that neither of them were willing to take.

He just had to go, get what they needed, and then leave. No diddly-dadling, or as Chris called it, ‘exploring.’ Food and water...that’s all he needs. He had no doubt the group residing here was big. Consisting of at least four people. Two men, and two women. Chris and Gavin had followed them in hopes to perhaps finding their base, or some food to steal, and find their base they did.

Well, it wasn’t really their ‘base,’ per say. Just a spot where they would stay for the night. Traveling during the night was dangerous. Unfortunates plagued even the emptiest of places, but that had never stopped Chris and Gavin. Traveling at night was the easiest for them. It kept them out of sight, and the sewer systems were a great route to get around the city. Unfortunates tended to stay away from these areas when the sun went down. They moved out to the open during the night. The behaviour was strange, but then again, when had unfortunates ever been normal?

Sighing, he crept through the room, salvaging anything that could be of any use. He found a few clean t-shirts in the closet, along with a few pairs of pants. Too big for either of them, but good enough to keep them warm during the night. The blankets had been taken away from the bed. The group staying here must’ve taken them. He was ready to leave the room, when he caught the glimpse of a picture frame that lay shattered on the ground.

Crouching, Gavin picked it up, wiping the dust from the cracked glass, and taking a good look at the photo. It was of a little girl. No older than eight. She was smiling brightly, a smile he hadn’t seen in years. Her tiny, pudgy arms were wrapped around whom Gavin assumed was her little brother. The boy had a scowl on his face, facing away from the camera.

“ _What happened to you?_ ” he whispered, not really sure whom the question was for, or whether he expected an answer back or not.

Gavin pulled the picture out from the frame, and folded it, placing it in the back pocket of his jeans. He’d hold onto it for now. Maybe he’d see this little girl someday, and then he could give it to her as a memory. Or maybe when all of this is over, he would put it up on a wall as a way to remember everyone. To make sure no survivor forgot about this young girl and her brother. So they could live on even if they were dead.

 _‘C’mon Gavin...no time to waste,’_ he thought, sweeping out from the bedroom door, and down the hallway trying to find where the supplies would be.

He didn’t have to look far. They were kept in the room at the end of the hall, at the corner of the room, covered up lousy with a blanket. Gavin allowed himself to grin in satisfaction. He quickly moved to the pile, and removed the blanket.

Water. So much water. Bottles, and piles of cliff bars, with a jar of peanut butter, and _so much more_. He hadn’t seen this much food in months.

He stuffed a couple bars in his bag, along with a few of bottles of water. Mouth watering, he made a grab for the peanut butter. He could already imagine it. The sweet greasy pile of fat, and protein, melting onto the tip of his tongue.

Gavin swallowed, and quickly stuffed it into his pack, before zipping it up. He didn’t take everything. Hell, he took very little of what they had. It was rule number one. Take only what you need, and nothing else.

The rules had kept them alive for this long, and he doubted they would fail him this time. That’s when it hit him. His mistake. This was too easy. _Far too easy_.

 

Rule number three, _‘If it’s too easy, don’t trust it.’_

 

Gavin’s eyes widened, and he scrambled up, looking for an exit. This must’ve been a trap, and he had to get out. _Fast._ He had to warn Chris and leave. Now!

Fuck. Fuck fuck. There was no window in this room. They knew. They’d known all along that they were being followed. It all made sense now. No one was up on watch-duty. He hadn’t seen anyone. The food had been left unguarded in a room _without_ a window. It was _too easy._

Gavin fucked up.

Gripping his bat tightly, he walked cautiously for the door. They had to be waiting for him, and he just needed one moment of shock to slip by, and escape. He took in a deep breath, letting his mouth open slightly to keep his breathing quiet.

The hall was empty, and quiet. He knew they were waiting. Probably from him to waltz out from the room grinning like a madman. That was his opponents first mistake. Never expect things to be easy, and Gavin sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy. He moved his bat, to hang out beside him, and moved his weight to one foot.

Rule number two, _‘Breathe.’_

And Gavin bolted. Sprinting past the hall, and back to the room where he first came from. He was close, so close to leaping out from the bedroom window, but something slammed into him, knocking him over. Gavin kicked at the body, and swinging his bat wildly at the man. A mop of brown hair, and dark eyes. Breathtaking and _frightening_. “Get the fuck off me!”

The brunet jumped back slightly, keeping his guard up, careful to stay between Gavin and the window. They weren’t going to let him escape easily, but then again, Gavin hadn’t expected anything less. He had to act quickly, before this brunet's friends joined him.

“You aren’t going to escape.”

Gavin grinned, baring his teeth out in the dark. “You think so?”

“Positive.” the boy stated, his face mostly dark from the lack of light, but the gleam of red in the brown eyes was unmistakable. _Determined._

“Guess, we’ll just have to find out won’t we? Come at me, fucker!”

With that, he made a false charge at the taller. The other prepared himself. His hands were bare, no doubt ready to use his fists. The boy seemed unfazed with the knowledge of having no weapon, and his eyes narrowed in dangerous over-confidence.

Five years ago, Gavin would have foolishly attacked at this man with no reconsideration or second thought, but that was five years ago and now was not back then. Gavin was maybe half a meter away from the brunet, and right before his bat made contact with those fists, he switched directions, sliding past the other’s feet, and making a charge for the window.

Gavin didn’t get the chance to jump out though. The brown-haired boy reached out, snatching his wrist in a crushing grip. The other, came around, and took a hold of the bat, pulling it back, and eventually forcing it out of Gavin’s slim fingers.

Gavin snarled, and dropped to the ground taking a swipe at the taller’s feet, in hopes of knocking the other out of balance. The boy only responded with a small jump to avoid Gavin’s leg, and gave a kick of his own.

Gavin gasped, feeling the boot come in contact with his ribs. He skidded back, the boy coming between the window and him once again. The brunet stood tall and unhindered, while Gavin stayed down on a knee, hand pressed up against his ribs in a futile attempt ease the pain of the boot. _Fuck. It hurt like a bitch._

His other hand wavered close to the cuffs of his torn jeans. Gavin sucked shit at hand to hand combat, and the taller would probably overpower him in seconds, but that didn’t mean that Gavin was going to make it easy. The least he could do was give Chris some time to escape.

He’d never killed a living person before. He wondered if this would be any more different that ending an unfortunate. The thumping of his heart didn’t help calm his nerves. Maybe if he just pretended the brown-eyed boy was an unfortunate it would help. If it came down to it, he’d _have_ to do it or try dying. For Chris. _Anything_ for Chris.

Gavin flicked his eyes up, pulling the hidden knife out from the strap under his jeans, and swiped at the other. The taller stepped back in surprise, bringing a hand up to keep the hand from his knife. Blade met flesh, and the other winced,as it sliced his hand, blood spilling out from the wound, looking black in the moonlight.

Guilt pulsed through his veins, but Gavin pushed it aside, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes. _‘C’mon Gavin,’_ he thought, taking another swing of the blade at the boy, this time digging deep in his forearm. _‘For Chris.’_

It was an excuse, and Gavin knew that. He was scared. _Terrified._ Unfortunates were not pretty, but humans....humans could be worse. _So much worse._ Chris made sure to remind him that every now and then, just to quiet his wants to meet others.

He knew better now, and wanted nothing more than to leave, even if that meant killing the boy in front of him. And if blaming Chris made it easier, than so be it. It wasn’t as though Chris would ever know.

It was selfish, and for now Gavin was more than okay with that.

Tears blurred his vision, and threw off his aim. He blinked vigorously, trying to get rid of his temporary disadvantage, as a few tears spilled from his swollen eyes. It was dark, so the other wouldn't be able to see his pathetic breakdown, and somehow that knowledge put it him in foolish relief.

Twisting back, he aimed for the other’s face, only to be stopped mid way. The brunet had his wrists caught in a speed that was much too impossible for a normal human. He winced, as he was harsly spun around, and pressed back against the other’s chest.

The brunet tightened his grip on his wrist that held the knife, and growled as a warning. He could hear the creaking of his bones as they were crushed harder, but Gavin didn’t dare let go of his knife.

In silent rage, the brunet dragged him out of the bedroom door, all the while Gavin struggled. He twisted, squirmed, kicked, and trashed in the frightening hold. Hell, he ever tried biting, spouting violent insults like poison dripping from his tongue. Turning to the ways of the unfortunate. Gavin was desperate.

“Stop,” the husky voice commanded, Gavin didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. He let out a slight whimper, as pain shot up his wrist, and yet, Gavin refused to let go of the knife. It was his only source of security. The only thing he could _trust._

With a final attempt of despair, he stomped his foot down upon his captor’s foot, hoping the grip around his wrists would loosen. It only tightened in return, and Gavin was sure if those fingers held any tighter, his wrist would snap in two.

Broken bones were never a good thing. First, there is the pain. Then the infection, sickness and finally death. A horrible way to go, but still better than being turned into an unfortunate.

The brunet growled behind him, and Gavin froze shutting his eyes and letting go of his struggle, but keeping his hold on the knife held tight. He wouldn’t let go of it. _He wouldn’t–_

 

 

“ _Gavin–_ ”

 

 

Gavin snapped his eyes open. He recognized that voice from anywhere. _Chris_ All hopes of escape shattered then, crumbling to the ground like glass. His hopes weak, and fragile.

There was Chris, struggling in the dark against the hold of another male. White hair and pale wrinkled skin. He was much...older. A blade of held up against Chris’s throat and it made Gavin’s heart drop. _‘Don’t...please don’t. I-I can’t lose another...’_ he begged silently, his mind raging and screaming in the silence.

A woman appeared out of the darkness from behind the older male. Beautiful. Something he didn’t think still existed in this world. Long ginger strands were put in a high ponytail, with soft wavy bangs coming to her eyebrows. He could make out a tattered knitted sweater, fit snugly against her body, with a satchel slung around her thin waist. A scarf hanging loosely from her neck.

Gavin turned his attention back to Chris, who gave him a guilt drenched look. Gavin tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t move. His _body_ wouldn’t move.

“ _Drop the knife,_ ” the male behind him ordered, and as if on cue, the old man dug his knife deeper into Gavin’s neck. “Or your friend over there–”

Gavin didn’t allow the other to finish. Instead, he let his trembling hand go limp, the blade slipping from his fingertips, and clattering onto the hardwood floor.

“Told ya you weren’t going to get away.”

Gavin swallowed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I didn’t fucking doubt it.”

He turned away from his friend, sparing one last look outside the window, wondering if this would be his last time looking at the outside world. The scene outside didn’t disappoint, and he let out a husky chuckle.

How ironic. The sky was nothing but black.

 

_Big black nothing._

 


	2. A revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is fucked.

“Hey,” Gavin whispered, dragging his feet forward in a tired manner. “Don’t fucking ignore me!”

“ _What?_ ” Chris snapped back, in a more hushed whisper, the thirst apparent in his voice.

Gavin twisted his hands in his bindings in annoyance. “When do you think they are gonna let us go?”

His captor stopped in his tracks, causing Gavin to bump into his back. “Let you go?” The brunet questioned, turning around.

Gavin hissed, snarling at his captor. “Listen here, you asshole. This is a _private_ conversation! Quit snooping in!”

Chris snickered, and his captor gaped in disbelief. “I-I wasn’t snooping in!!”

Gavin gave a crooked grin. “Yeah? Don’t seem like that to me, Tincan. Seemed like you were pretty intrigued with our little _private_ chat. You even started asking questions.”

The brunet stuttered, face heating up the tiniest bit. “That’s not it!! You’re like..two feet away from us. You can’t exactly have a private conversation even if you wanted to!”

Gavin sneered. “ _And who’s fault is that?_ ”

His captor didn’t reply, instead turning around and giving a sharp tug to the rope to get him walking again. All the while, Gavin glared at his back, silently hoping it would pierce a hole straight through his back.

His current situation was not by any means comfortable. He doubted Chris’s was either. Thick, heavy, ropes were tied around his wrists. The ones on his ankles giving him little walking space. His captor held the rope attached to his wristed, often giving a small tug when Gavin slowed down, or said something out of line.

It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t able to walk at his best with his ankles and wrists tied. Not his fault for not having eaten or drinken any water or food in the past two days. Wasn’t his fault that his heart was racing with anxiety bubbling at his very skin wondering when these people were going to feed them to the unfortunates, or when Chris would die or when he would die. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. It wasn’t. _It wasn’t._..I-It couldn’t have been h-his fault...

The soles of his feet were blistered, and his eyes drooped threatening to close and give up on Gavin then and there. He hadn’t slept for the last three days. Not since the incident. He’d offered to take up on ‘watch-duty,’ knowing Chris needed sleep more than he did. But that was before they were captured by this group, and tied up.

There was no way he could sleep here, or even _think_ of such a luxury. They needed to escape, and soon. He couldn’t miss their chance of escape for wanting to catch a breath, or rest for an hour or two.

“Walk faster,” came a growl from the taller man, and another tug on the rope. Gavin stumbled forward, close to giving up then, but he forced himself to stay upright. Glaring at the back of his captor’s head, he snarled.

“Maybe if a _certain somebody_ didn’t tie our feet, we would be able to walk faster.”

“Quit whining.”

“Quit whining?! You’ve _kidnapped_ us, and you expect me to quit _whining??_ Jesus Christ, what is _wrong_ with you people.” It wasn’t much of a comeback, but in Gavin’s defense, he hadn’t slept for 74 hours. Fuck him if he wasn’t exactly on par with his sassiness.

“You stalked us for miles, and attempted to steal our supplies. Pretty sure that’s more than enough reason.”

“To survive! In case you haven’t noticed, we are in the middle of a _fucking apocalypse!!_ ” Chris snorted, and Gavin spared him a weak glare. “Just let us go...we won’t bother your lot again.”

“No can do, human,” the ginger spoke from his side. Her voice course and rough, unlike how he would’ve imagined it to be. She looked far too _delicate_ for such a commanding voice, but then again, he supposed the apocalypse had changed all of them in some way or form.

Gavin was about to spit out a smart remark, but Chris beat him to it. His voice remaining calm and collected. “And why’s that?”

“You know too much,” she replied back.

Gavin twitched, his hands curling weakly into fists. _“We don’t even know your name!!”_ he exasperated, desperate and almost begging.

“Names North,” she said. “The old man holding ur friend is Hank, and Mr. Grouchy Pants in front of you is Connor.”

"I'm not old!" the man spoke, grumbling.

Gavin took in their names one by one. Repeating them over in his head to make sure he didn’t forget them. Names were important. It was the only thing they could call they own. Only thing you can leave behind in this world.

“Where’s the fourth one?” Chris spoke in a hushed whisper. “There were four of you.”

“Oh, you mean Marcus?” Red head...or rather North said. “He’s up ahead of us on look-out.”

Gavin blinked at those words. They would send someone alone on look-out? “To send someone alone...isn’t that dangerou–”

“–He can handle his own,” Connor cut in. “Now, enough about us...”

Gavin looked over to Chris, who remained quiet. They both understood the unsaid question. This group had told them things about them...now it was their turn to pay back. To tell the three something about them. “What?”

“Names,” Connor demanded, and Gavin wanted nothing more than to bash that stupid face in against the wall.

Gavin glanced back over to Chris, who shook his head. It seemed they hadn’t payed attention to what Chris had called him last night. They couldn’t afford to trust them...at least not _yet_. “I’d tell you...but I don’t like to be labeled.”

“What. Is. Your. Name,” Connor repeated, looking far too perfect for this world, his voice turning angrier dropping a few octaves as growls emerging from the back of his throat. He sounded almost... _feral_ , despite the plastic looking face.

Gavin swallowed the lump of fear, and let out a small mocking groan. “ _Can’t you ask an easier question?_ ”

He could hear Chris trying to stifle a laugh, and grinned when the brunet turned back around to meet him in the eye. Gavin didn’t dare back down. He gazed right back into those _ugly_ hazel eyes, almost challenging the other.

Ken doll opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the ginger.... _North, was it?_ “Connor–stop...we’ll talk to them back at the base.”

“Base? There are _more_ of you?” Chris whispered, almost awed by the idea. No one had groups that big anymore. They’d all been infiltrated, and taken over. Some separated...others dead. Mauled until all who ceased to be a part of the group were nothing more than piles of guts, and bones.

North didn’t reply, instead tapping into what Gavin assumed was her com, and mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out. Maybe Chris could...he didn’t know. His head was spinning, knees wobbling with every agonizing step. Gavin peered at Chris with lidded eyes, his head swaying. He stumbled a bit, before coming back up, and taking another agonizing step, eyes fixated on the hazy figure of his friend.

Chris was saying something...he couldn’t hear. The noises had dulled down in the background, his ears now filled with a light buzz. Exhaustion swept through every cell in his body, and cold sweat dripped down his back.

Maybe he could just give up now? Just let go for a moment... _just this once._ His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell, the ground rushing up to him. It collapsed upon him with a hard grunt. The pain shooting up his shoulder, and down to the throbbing of his feet.

He could see Ken doll turning around in shock, reaching out for him, while Chris struggled against the ginger’s hold, North yelling something into her coms.

He wanted to give up...just not care for a moment. Perhaps even get a nice dream...or maybe sleep forever. He didn’t know. But as the darkness crept up upon him, Gavin found himself not caring.

It was selfish and for the moment, Gavin was more than ok with that.

 

_-o-_

 

_Gavin was cold. Something he had become all too familiar with. His hand had been moved behind his back, legs bound tight together, and he groaned as a piercing pain shot up his spine to the back of his head._

_Breathing in a musky, dense scent he opened his eyes slowly flinching away as the light pierced through his sight, blinding him momentarily._

_“Fuck,” was all he could manage as he took in his surroundings. He wasn’t bound by rope, but chains in a place infested with unfortunates._

_They were around him, merely an arms length away, and he was an arms length away from them. That’s what terrified him. They were so close. Too close. Fear pulsed through his veins as an unfortunate shrieked at his awakening and reached out to him. The unfortunate stopped a little more than a meter away, chained to another pole in this dungeon-like room._

_Its eyes were pitch black, one half gouged out dangling off sickeningly by a single thread of fibre from the sockets. Wrists, and ankles were swollen, and shredded down to bone in an attempt to escape. The unfortunate gaze bore deep into his eyes, looking for something he couldn’t make out._

_Gavin let out another yelp when he heard more chains clanging from around him. More unfortunates reaching out for him, but stopped only by the chains. They surrounded him in seconds, and Gavin stopped. The air. The sight. Rotting flesh, and blood. The saltiness at the tip of his tongue, and the stench. Gods, the stench._

_It filled him, overflowing at the tip of his lungs. Smothering him. They shrieked and snarled, and Gavin sobbed, curling up as though it would protect him._

_“Please..please...stop...” he muttered, trying to press his face further into the ground, trying to block out the sound. It was horrible, disgusting._

_Gavin wanted to close his eyes, but something kept them open. He didn’t deserve to look away. They didn’t deserve it. He’d failed them, and this was his punishment._

_Gavin wasn’t sure exactly how he had failed them, or why. He just knew it was somehow his fault. Maybe if he’d seen the signs before the first outbreak. Maybe, if he’d taken a right instead of a left, then he would've seen them, and maybe he could’ve saved them from turning. Maybe if he’s put his attention to formulating a cure rather than selfishly trying to survive. He didn’t know._

_His lower lip trembled, as he breathed in the hatred. The rage they held for him. The tiniest bit of hope hidden underneath the inky blackness. Maybe they still believed Gavin could help them.... save them._

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I-I can’t...I’m sorry. ”_

_And as though understanding what Gavin had said, they cried. Screaming and snarling at Gavin with the rage he still hadn’t gotten used to._

_He wanted out._

_He wanted to leave, and never come back. He didn’t want to see their faces again or even bare the tiniest glance. ‘Go away,’ he wanted to yell, but all he that came out were incoherent slurs._

_Please. Get him out of here. Take him away. Wrap him in warmth, and safety that Gavin had yet to learn. Just get him out. Gavin couldn’t breathe, let alone make sense of the world around him. He was suffocating. Drowning. The waves trashing upon him, taking his under the current, only to pull him back out. If he stayed under, he knew he would eventually find peace, but the waved always pulled him back above. Breaking the surface, and giving him a taste of life, before sending him back under. It was cruel, and he wanted out. Out. OUT. OUT!!!!_

 

_Please, somebody._

 

_...Anybody..._

 

Gavin shot up, panting and breathing heavy. The bright sun greeted him like needles, peircing through his eyes painfully. He groaned, feeling his head begin to throb with a dull ache. His heart thundered, slowly coming to a calm when he realized he was only dreaming.

It wasn’t real. None of it. It was just a dream...just a dre–

He let out a breath of relief, only to realize he’d been tied to a post, wrists burning as the ropes dug in deeper. Fuck.

“You’re awake,” a voice came from behind him, and Gavin turned to sneer at his captors. Ginger bitch.

“You!” he sneered.

“Me?” she raised an eyebrow, walking in front him, and crouching down to get to his level.

“Untie me,” he growled, attempting to sound intimidating but in no avail.

“First of all, you should be thanking us, you ungrateful shit. Connor had to drag your pathetic sorry arse all the way here when you collapsed onto the ground like a weak ass bitch.”

“Oh, fuck you!” he spat back, and it earned him a hard slap.

“I’m not here to be polite, so lets go over the rules, okay? I ask the questions. You answer. Understood?” she spoke, eyes cold and calculated, and Gavin wondered how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.

“I ain’t tellin you shit, Carrot top!”

She sneered slightly, lips curving up in an ugly manner. He felt slightly disappointed at the knowledge that humans were just as hateful as the unfortunates. Sometimes, he wondered if there was any difference at all.

He took a moment to look around. He’d been put in a locked room, walls high and without a roof, exposing him to every element mother nature had to offer. It was cold and damp, despite the yellow sun shining brightly above them.

He didn’t see Chris, and that was what scared Gavin the most. He wondered if this was their ‘base.’ If so, he was impressed, awed by the amount of power it would have taken them to secure such a place. It had to be huge. For them to be walking comfortably in a room without a ceiling, they had to be part of a big group.

Groups like that didn’t exists anymore. at least that’s what Gavin, Chris and Tina liked to think. It was easier to go on with that mindset. Made it easier for them to stay away from larger groups, or as they liked to call it ‘pockets.’

Not quite a city...or a town. Not normal enough to be a gang, but not religious enough to be a cult. Nothing about them could be associated with the normal human slang for groups, so they stuck with pockets. Pockets...were dangerous.

That was something they’d learned a long time ago. They weren’t going to repeat their mistake again. Not again. _Never_ again.

That was the oath the three had taken together, but looking back at it now, it didn’t seem they were given much of a choice. _‘Sorry Tina...looks like I couldn’t keep our promises afterall,’_ he thought as the door that kept him captive creaked open.

It was an awfully ugly sound. Metal straining against itself, and sounding much like how nails would on chalkboard. Light came creeping in through the crack, revealing a tall freckled lean boy. Couldn’t be much older than him...but a lot more fuller. Gavin didn’t know exactly how to put it in words, but he could tell that the other was well fed..and not in any lack for food. “Ken doll!” Gavin exclaimed, not really remember the other’s name. _Con..connor was it?_

There was a scary thing about pockets. They were able to gather so much food..for so many people, but there were questions. So many questions. Ones that he hadn’t thought about in his previous pocket. _How? Where? From who? What did you do to obtain it?_

The thought alone made Gavin want nothing more than to bash the others head in...but he supposed he couldn’t blame them. Humanity doesn’t exist in this world. In this world, it was hunt or be hunted.

Gavin and Chris preferred to be more of the vultures, that scavenged off things that the predators had left behind. It didn’t make them any better than the predators, but it sure did help them feel a whole ton better about themselves.

“What’s up in your head? Can’t have you going on mute on me now can I?” Carrot top spoke, startling Gavin out from his thoughts.

“Why’s that?” Gavin asked more teasingly than serious, but the redhead went on. He truly hadn’t expected his question to be answered. It was not usual of kidnappers to tell their captives of their plans, or answer their questions and yet here they were.

“You know something,” she spoke, ignoring Ken doll’s presence.

“Me?” Gavin laughed off, tugging the sleeve of his torn up shirt further down his wrist. Hide? Oh fuck him if they knew what he was hiding. He was hiding the world’s secrets, but god forbid he ever let his tongue slip.

Carrot top narrowed her eyes, studying him with a calculated gaze. “How long have your and your friend been...out there?”

Gavin blinked, a rush of relief passing over his chest. They didn’t know...not yet. And that gave him some time. Gavin let out another husky chuckle. “What is this? A interrogation session? Aren’t the big ol’ kidnappers supposed to wait for the rest of the group before all this questioning?”

There was a moment of silence before the other replied. “You’re right. We can wait.”

Gavin mentally cursed himself for being as dumb as he was now, but then again could you blame? He hasn’t had “human” contact with people other than Chris, Tina, and Theo in over 2 years. Forgive him if he wasn’t exactly on par with his “human” skills.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

 

_-o-_

 

“Let’s start off simple shall we? What’s your name?”

Gavin looked around, avoiding his gaze from the ginger. “You alone here, North? No big bad boyfriend to protect you from poor old me?” he asked, trying his best to avoid answering the questions. That earned him a blow to the head.

He didn’t blame her. He did deserve it.

He let out a small cry, feeling the metallic taste spread like wildfire through his mouth. He spit out a glob of blood, and brought his head back up to give the other a toothy grin. “Feisty.”

“What is your name?” North repeated, Ken Doll simply leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking more amused than one should. Maybe it was just Gavin that didn’t change properly in this world. How...how was it someone could be amused watching another hurt? Was that how they worked now?

And the more and more he gazed at the two before him the more Chris’s words seemed true. He should never have doubted his friend’s words. This world was cruel. There was no more ‘nice’ people anymore. He knew that, then why did he still doubt it so much?

Another sharp pain exploding to the side of his jaw, reeled him back from his thoughts, leaving him hacking and coughing on the floor below. The ropes dug deep on his wrist, and the pole rough, and cutting ragged scrapes against his pale structure.

Red dribbled out from his swollen lips, pooling up on the floor. Gavin let out a small groan, pulling himself back up from the hunched position on the floor. “D-does it really matter?”

Another hit.

“Your name.”

“Legolas.”

Another hit. “This is no time for games, Shortie. You either answer the question, or next time, it’ll be your friend that gets it.”

Gavin gulped. Should he take that risk? Should he tell them...would they really bring Chris into this? They couldn’t....right? “I’m surprised you know that reference. S-seems like you all are not just stuck up nerds t-that have never watched Lord of the Rings afterall.”

Gavin wanted to hit himself for that. Why would he say that? God damnit..his people skills have really hit a rock bottom. The ginger gave him a unamused glower, before turning to Ken doll “Go get the other.”

“NO!” Gavin blattered out, sounding more frantic than he should have. “Don’t....please..”

He lowers his gaze to the floor, contemplating on whether or not he should be revealing such information to them. He could lie. They wouldn’t know. They didn’t have to know...as long as Gavin kept up with it... _they would never know._

“Jack,” Gavin mumbled. “My name...it’s Jack.”

North let out a small satisfying smile, and walked closer up to his tied up self. “Now, that wasn’t so hard now was it, Jack?”

Gavin looked away, mumbling a harsh, “no.”

“Good boy,” the ginger patted his bruised cheek softly. Gods, Gavin hated her already. “What’s your friends name?”

Gavin paused for a moment, not speaking and then returning North’s questions with a soft murmur. “..Layne..”

“Good. Why were you stealing from us?”

Gavin gave her a disbelieving look. Did they not know that they were in the middle of a fucking apocalypse..and usually that means needing food to survive. “We needed food?” he answered confused.

“Why?” she snapped back.

“I don't know. Maybe because some of us actually need to fucking eat to survive!?” he exclaimed sarcastically.

The ginger let out a small growl slamming her hand on the back of the chair next to Gavin’s head. Gavin flinched, jumping slightly. “Listen here Jack, I don’t want any lies out of you. Which group do you belong to?”

Gavin blinked confused. “You mean...which Pocket?”

“Same thing, Shortie, now speak!” she growled, spitting at Gavin with spite that he’d only last seen in the Unfortunates.

“Pockets don’t exist anymore!” he tried, trying to drown himself in all that Chris had told him. “They’re all gone. Dead.”

Another agonizing smack. “I’ll ask you again. Which grou–Pocket do you belong to? Who’re you working for?”

Gavin gulped down the bile in his mouth. He coughed as the wetness dribbled down his dry crackling throat like fire burning the thin sheet of crumpled paper. He didn’t understand. He swallowed again, wincing at the sting that hurt more than the throbbing on the side of his jaw. “I-I told you...they’re all dead,” he rasped.

Another hit, and Gavin swore he could see stars, which was odd considering it was daylight. His jaw rattled slightly, blood dripping out from the corner of his lips. “Try again.”

“..dead..” he whispered begging the ginger to stop, but she remained relentless. Hitting him once again. “..I’m not..l-lying...”

Oh, he was lying alright, but Gavin hated them...Gods he hated them so much. They were no better. No better than the _others_. He wished they would just leave and never return. He didn’t want their food or water no more. Gavin and him could find it elsewhere. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, but Gavin blinked them away refusing to breakdown for these ruthless people.

“What’s got our guest all bruised up, North?” Gavin shot his head up to look at the owner of the new voice. Jet black hair, piercing blue eyes, and the 90s fingerless. The male was standing next to ken doll, looking disturbing alike.

“Brother–” Connor starts, perking up slightly, but stops when North cuts in.

“Shortie here, persists on lying,” North rambled out, more polite, but Gavin could still _taste_ the poison in her words. Oh, how he wanted to lick it all up, swallow it till it turned him into nothing but a shell of his own body. It was would be easier then. So much easier. But he’d made a promise...they’d all made a promise.

“Lying, eh?” the raven walks forward leaning down to come to eye level with him. “What’s your name?”

Gavin gulped, trying to crawl further back into the chair, but in no avail. The man reached forward grabbing his jaw in a bruising grip forcing Gavin to keep his gaze locked with the raven, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain. “Name Shortie,” the Raven gritted out, no longer a question but a demand.

“Jack,” Gavin muttered trying to keep up with his lies. “Jack.”

“Well _Jack,_ ” the raven went on. “Remember how we’ve got your friend lying just next door.”

Gavin nodded shakily. His gaze trailed up to the foundation covering the raven’s forehead. There was something underneath there. What? He didn’t know...but Gavin could guess.

The hand on his jaw squeezed and Gavin returned his gaze back to the raven’s eyes. “Good. Now...here’s the deal, we’ll leave your friend alone, but you’ve got to give us a few honest answers here, ok?”

The voice was menacing, cold, and even more poisoned than that he’s heard with North. Shivers ran down his spine and he nodded again not trusting his voice to speak.

“So...what were you doing out there, before you and Connor met?”

They...they were running. Running because they were hiding. A betrayal like that would have killed in a way worse than turning into an unfortunate. Back there, turning was more merciful than being caught. So...they were running. Yes, running...but they’d been running or over 2 years now...maybe even longer. He couldn’t tell for sure. He remembers Theo. The first one of their group to be shredded to pieces. He remember Emery. Their first kiss. _Their last kiss._ Gavin remembers Reagan and Ivy and Adrian and Tina and _Elijah..._

How they’d lost them back at the mall. How’d they’d all gotten separated at the mall, and hadn’t seen each other since. Hell, Gavin didn’t even know if they were still alive. Then he remembers Tina. How they left her back in that warehouse, and he could only hope she made it out alive.

He remembers their promise. _‘To survive at all costs.’_ After Emery’s suicide, they’d promised one another such an incident wouldn’t occur. Not again. Emery had always been afraid of such a thing. She’d been brought up in a strictly catholic family, much like Gavin. Anyone that committed suicide would go to hell. That’s what the two of them had grown being taught. Emery was terrified of the thought of going to hell, but now that he thinks of it...maybe hell was better than what they were living in now.

It didn’t matter now. They’d given her a proper burial nonetheless. Now she was but a distant memory. Gavin refuses to remember before those two year. He didn’t want to... _he shouldn’t have to!_

“R-run–looking for food and w-water,” Gavin stuttered correcting himself.

“Hmm...what were you running from?” Gavin wanted to swallow himself. Of course the raven wouldn't let go of that little mistake of his.

He licked his chapped lips. “T-the u-unfortunates, of course. O-our hideout got c-compromised.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but they haven’t had a full complete hideout in months. The last one still secure, but back on north side of the city. It was far and it was safer to try their chances here than to try and tretch their way back up north.

“How big is your hideout?”

“It’s temporary...just a spot for the night.”

“I see,” the raven mused. “Where’s your _actual_ hideout then?”

“We don’t...have one anymore,” Gavin rasps out, choking on his own spit.

The man before him narrows his eyes. “We?”

Shit.

“M-me and B–Layne.”

“ _Your friends name is Layne?_ ” the raven tries again as though trying to give him one last chance.

Gavin nods unsure of what the raven has planned. What Gavin hadn’t expected was more exploding pain, this time sprouting from the width of his stomach. He coughed attempting to topple over his aching stomach, red spilling from his lips like water.

“I want the truth here, _Jack,_ ” the raven growls, pulling his back up by the hair, and pulling hard. Tears leaked from Gavin’s eyes, pain growing by every waiting moment. “You think I didn’t have a chat with your other friend before I came up here?”

Gavin trembled under the harsh touch, breath escaping from his parted lips in small pants. “You know what he told me?”

Gavin shook his head, convulsing. Was it always this cold?

“You see, we had a nice little chat, that turned a tad bit violent. We got a little bit, but unfortunately, your little loyal friend passed out on me.”

Gavin snarled at that, reaching up to snap his teeth at the raven, who only returned the anger with a sinister smirk. _“Don’t you fucking touch him!”_

“How about we start again, and your friend wouldn’t have to go through that again.”

The raven pulled up a stool next to him, sitting down, and leaning a fist on his cheek. Gavin slumped his head down in defeat. He’d be honest...for now. If it kept them alive, then so be it.

“Alright _Jack_. My name is Nines, what’s yours?”

“Gavin”

“Now, Gavin does suit you a lot better, doesn’t it?” Gavin doesn’t bother to reply back to that. “What’s your little buddy’s name?”

“Chris”

The raven gave a pleased smile. “Now...why were you stealing from us.”

“Needed food.” Gavin kept his answers short, careful not to reveal anything he didn’t want to.

“Ok...for whom?”

Gavin gave a small glare. This conversation was going exactly as it’s gone with North. “Who do you fucking think? We needed to food because we ran out. Chris and me.” He leaned his head back in defeat. They weren’t going to believe him. Whether he told the truth or not. They were never going to fucking believe him.

“Pockets...tell me about them,” the raven asked instead, rather than going onto accusing him.

Gavin gulped. “Dead...they don’t exist anymore. Everyone’s dead. They were all overtaken by the unfortunates. T-those who survived are now scavengers or in pairs. Pockets are g-gone.”

“Liar!” North blattered out, accusingly. “He’s lying Nines! You know he is!!”

Gavin winced slightly, his surprise turning to anger. “Oh yeah?! What do you fucking know? I’ve been out there 2 years. _Two fucking years,_ and it’s been just me and Chris!! Don’t give me that ‘he’s lying’ bulshit! You don’t know nothing!! YOU KNOW NOTHING!!” Gavin yelled, voice cracking and rasping, but he continued nonetheless. “And judging by the way you guys are reacting to this...you’re probably new to this city, aren’t you?”

The raven– _Nines_ closed his eyes, whether it was out of annoyance or defeat, Gavin couldn’t tell. “We are not!” North persists, tongue dripping with poison.

Gavin only let out a small chuckle in response to that. “You are new. If you weren’t, you would’ve killed us by now,” Gavin paused for a moment, his voice going quiet. “. _..or worse._ ”

Nines raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“There are those who survived but they’re no better than the Unfortunates themselves.” Gavin spoke in a hushed tone. “They have no more humanity. This...this city tore that away from them.”

“ _What about you?_ ” Nines spoke carefully, and Gavin went rigid.

Was there still an ounce of humanity left within him? A small bit...maybe the slightest touch? His mind crawled back to the woman that lay chained, snarling and only moments from turning. The glass walls that kept them all contained, and alive in a living nightmare. He remembers Sarah. She was only _seven_...and crying sobbing incoherent slurs of words she’d barely learned to speak.

He remembers watching her get _better_. He remember that hope...that glimmer of hope shining in the child’s ink black eyes. When he’s returned later that night waiting to see Sarah with that dazzling smile of hers, only to be met with horror. She’d clawed her eyes out...with her own very small hands.

Sarah no longer remained, but she left behind a gargling, convulsing child’s body. Gavin had never felt more sick. He remembers.

He remembers snooping in his mother and father’s negotiations with their new boss. He remember betrayal, and pain and heartbreak. He remembers running away that night. How he’d gotten his friends together, how they’d shut down the entire facility, and how he’d stolen the one serum that could decide of the survival of mankind. He remembers feeling like a hero. He wanted to be a hero.

Pain came next. The death of his friends. He remembers them pushing his mother into the hoarding pile of Unfortunates. Remembers her screams as they ripped her apart, _bite after bite._  Remembers the sadistic cackles that followed. He remembers hiding the serum...running away from the cursed object once and for all. He remembers running, because only he knew. He’d told no one...not even Chris.

He remembers being a failure. _A coward._

“I suppose it tore us apart too,” Gavin whispers to no one in particular. _“It tore us all apart.”_

The trio remained quiet before him, and Gavin raised his head to look at them. “How did you all manage to secure such a place..if you were new here.”

Connor, who had been standing silently by the door flashed him a toothy grin. “That’s where you're wrong, Gavin. Unlike you, North here wasn’t lying. We aren’t new.”

Gavin furrowed his eyebrows confused, and Nines decided to relieve him of the suspense. “We all started off here, but we’re returning.”

“W-why would you return?” Gavin stammered. They had gotten away from this city...no one gets out of this city, and now they’re breaking back in? Gavin had begged to find a way from out this city, but from what Gavin and Chris knew, there could be the _others_ patrolling at any place around the edge of the city, and they'd refused to take the risk to get out. Right now, it was all about survival, and they’d managed to live more than 2 years in this same city that tore them apart...why try their luck elsewhere? “ _W-why?_ ”

Blue met silver, and Nines flashed him a broken grin. “You know more than you let on, Gavin, so _you_ are going to help us.” The raven left no room for argument. It wasn’t a question..or request. It was a demand. Plain and simple...nothing more. Nothing less.

“What are you going to do?” Gavin whispered not daring to break eye contact, feeling his blood run cold with the words that followed.

 

 

“ _We are going to start a fucking Revolution._ ”

 

 

Fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER!! It doesn't make much sense yet, but I promise things will start to piece themselves together in the coming chapters. I just don't want to give anything away too quickly yet. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter? It's kinda long, but yeah. I didn't have the patience to wait and put the rest in another chapter. And I'm lazy, so I don't have the energy to grammar check the chapter...yeah. There will be a lot more angst coming.
> 
> See a mistake? Tell me! Both criticism and suggestions for the plot are greatly appreciated.
> 
> P.S. Ken Doll is just a nickname Gavin made for Connor. In case that was confusing...I just put that here, so there is no misunderstanding.


	3. Just One Big Fucking Joke

Gavin feared the thought of being forgotten. It would creep in slowly from the back of his mind, never leaving and forever haunting. It kept him up all night, wondering if tonight would be his last. A part of it was tempting, knowing death would be easier than fighting, but he had promised. _He promised._

The other part was terrifying, hollowing to the bone. Knowing that these stone walls and this black sky would be the last thing he would see before going, or maybe even the open jaws of an unfortunate as it came down on him, hating _and hating._

“Can’t sleep, Shortie?”

Gavin rolled his eyes, and turned to glare at the intruder, standing by the door frame, as cocky as before. “I’m not short, you fucking dick. And I’ve been sleeping just fucking fine on this cold, wet floor. Never felt anything softer.”

“Oh quit being so sarcastic, it isn’t that bad” Connor muttered, running a hand through his hair, and Gavin took that opportunity to look closer to his forehead, wanting to see if there was the same foundation he’d seen on the taller copy. Before he could confirm his suspicions, the other removed his hand, hair falling back on his face like wisps. “Better than out there.”

Gavin let out a snarl, feeling the need to laugh crawling up his burning throat. “And this is any better?” he finds himself asking, lips curved in disbelief.

“How is it not?”

Connor is curious, but it’s not for Gavin, it’s for the intel Connor knows he holds. Why else would they hold Gavin and Chris here? Alive at that. Wasting their supply of food and water on them, even if it was just a sip.

“ _Why are you even here?_ ”

“Bonding?” the other asks, shrugging.

“Bonding huh?” Gavin scoffs. “They don’t do that here.”

Connor pauses, freezing up and turning to Gavin with a sharp snap of the neck. “They?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, and Gavin wants to laugh at his pitiful state. Man, they were desperate.

“Oh quit being paranoid over everything. They is just my term for people we haven’t met here...or people who are still survivors,” Gavin says, reeling the conversation off to another direction. They needed information. Gavin needed information. In the end, it was only a matter of who needed it more.

“How did your lot break in through the walls?” Gavin’s voice is softer...almost fragile, and he notes his own weakness. Don’t get him wrong. He’s trying. Trying so fucking hard to keep up this facade...and be all unbreakable stainless steel, badass and strong. Because fuck...he is weak. He is weak, and if that makes him human, than he is all to okay with it.

“Why do you ask?”

“Why do you fucking think?” Gavin lets out a sneer. “You think we want to spend the rest of our lives stuck in this hellhole, when there is freedom waiting on the other side? Two years have been more than enough, trust me. You break out, and then you fucking break back in! Is your entire lot crazy?”

Connor lets out a grin, eyes glinting with that amusement that Gavin hated. “Freedom? You think there is freedom outside those city walls? Well aren’t you all innocent and _naive._ ” he cooes mockingly.

“Just answer the fucking question,” Gavin snaps, not bothering to dwell on what Connor had just said. He feared to ask for what he meant, and a part of him knowing it would be better if he didn’t know.

“You survived two years, _alone,_ let along the three years before. Do tell, Gavin, how did you manage that?”

Gavin swallowed. They couldn’t know. Two years alone sounded difficult, but when you add the first three it was near impossible. No...they couldn’t know...he wouldn’t let them know. _“You tell me, you survived didn’t you?”_

“We didn’t stay here for five fucking years, dumbass. But you did...” his gaze falls back on Gavin, studying, searching for any signs of a lie. “...so tell me. How is it you, _a mere human,_ managed five years in this hellhole without being bitten or... _worse._ ”

Gavin raised his eyebrow at the strange use of words. “We are _all_ human, idiot. And just so you know, being bitten _is_ the worst thing.”

“Quit changing the subject.”

Gavin rolls his eyes, wondering what his next move should be. Should he tell them? Tell them about the cure, if it even was a cure...the reason why this all started? Nonetheless, Gavin liked to think it was what could save them all. Gave him hope for a future...a _reason_ to survive. “We weren’t alone,” he started, catching Connor’s interest. “Our group had been bigger. There were thirteen of us.”

“Were?”

“Six of us are dead.” He didn’t tell them how. Didn’t feel the need to.

“And the rest?”

He didn’t know how to reply to that. Were they dead...were they alive? Gavin didn’t know and he fears he’ll never truly know. “ _I don’t know,_ ” he croaks out, voice so quiet, Connor wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for the pin drop silence in the chamber.

He waits for an insult or perhaps another punch for his “lies”. Instead he’s greeted with two pair of hands reaching behind his slumped figure, wrapping their arms him, and for a moment, Gavin thinks the brunet is comforting him. It’s a foolishly comforting thought, it only proves him wrong as the bindings wrapped around his wrists fall loose, dropping to the floor behind him one by one.

“What are yo–”

“I’m getting you out of these ropes,” Connor interrupts him, backing away. “Get up, Shortie.”

_“What?”_

“Don’t wanna get out of here do you? Into bondage maybe?” Connor mocks, before letting out a small chuckle at his own joke. “C’mon, follow me. Unless of course, you’d rather stay here. Wouldn’t mind seeing you tied up all day.”

Gavin  flushes a light red in surprise, before glaring at the other in disgust. The jokes were horrendous, disgusting even, full of dark humour that Gavin understood all too well. “No.”

“Lighten up a little, Shortie. It was just a joke.”

Laughter echoed across the empty silence, and Gavin wonders if the brunet is right. If all this is was all just one big joke, and someone would pop around the corner with a camera laughing at his pitiful state. Hell, Gavin wouldn’t even be angry. He’d be so _fucking grateful._ He follows the brunet quietly wondering... _hoping._ A joke, huh? He liked the sound of that.

_Just one big fucking joke._

 

-o-

 

Gavin didn’t know what to think when he stepped out to the open air, the heavy door closing behind him a sickening thud.

It was... _breathtaking._

Men and women and _children_ . Laughter filled the air as a child went running before him, chasing another girl who he supposed was barely five. There is a pair, carrying a log across them..and forests. They are surrounded by trees...and trees and _green_ . It’s a... _pocket._

“ _You...you came back for them,_ ” Gavin found himself whispering, awed. He didn’t think...couldn’t bring himself to believe this was real. He’ll wake up cold with Chris by his side, all alone. And that would be a real fucking punchline, wouldn’t it?

It wasn’t fair. Rather...it was cruel. He’d been in this city for five years, and in five years, he had never seen anything like this. “Which part of the city are we in?” he asks in disbelief.

“The south,” Connor replies back without hesitation, and Gavin shakes his head vigorously.

“You’re lying! I know _every_ corner in the south and this...this never existed. We never saw this. You are lying! Where are we?!” Gavin snaps, heart thundering, torn in two.

“Woah-hoh...calm down tiger,” a gruff voice chirps in and Gavin turns to glare at the old man walking past them. Hank. “I assure you, this is the south.”

“No,” he grits out. “It isn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Connor asks, again with that creepy judging look, that makes Gavin want to curl inwards.

“Because...” he starts, pausing for a moment. “...I have scavenged every corner of this city. The south. The North. East. West.. _the fucking sewers?!_ I know every route...every street, every fucking danger around the corner and fuck me if I hadn’t noticed if there was a _pocket_ of this size still lying around in this godforsaken city.”

“See...you do know more than you let on, Gavin,” Connor smiles, patting his cheek softly. Gavin steps away from the touch. Fuck, he’d walked right into that. “But I assure you, this is the south. We just have...ways..of staying off the grid and out of sight.”

“And what exactly are those ways?”

“Not yet, Gavin. You still haven’t _earned_ our trust, yet.”

 

_And you’ve earned mine?_

 

“What are you thinking?” Connor says, confused, and Gavin wonders how he could possibly figure out something was wrong. It didn’t seem... _natural._

“Where is my friend?”

“Sleeping. Nines went a little...overboard I must admit,” Connor visibly cringes, and Gavin clenches his fists feeling white rage pulse through his blood. He wanted to make them hurt. To make these people hurt for hurting the only one he trusted. The only one he still had to care about.

Instead he opted for a calmer response. Mindless violence would only get them into deeper trouble. For now, they just had to find a way to escape. “Can I see him?”

“No.” there is no hesitation in his voice, and Gavin can tell this isn't the first time they have done this. “ _You_ are coming with me.”

 

-o-

 

“Get rid of it,” the man muttered stepping over the dead body, and walking towards the discarded bag on the concrete floor.

His henchmen scrambled forward, putting a clean bullet through the unfortunate still gnawing its way through the girl’s stomach. In all, it’s disgusting. The girl lay, her parts scrambled across the cold floor, brains splattered across the pillar behind her, with a gaping hole going going through her skull, all the way from underneath her jaw to the tip of her head.

The man scavenges through the bag, filling, pulling out a few water bottles and a scarf. Nothing. He motions to the followers behind him, and they begin to reach in to the body’s pockets, searching...and as the hand pull out, holding a folded paper, the man lets his lips curve.

He snatches it from the pudgy hands, opening the crumples mess, feeling warmth spread across his chest. He lets his fingers trace over the figures in the photo, and looking over to the mass of unrecognizable flesh. He smiles sadly, feeling a sense of loss...failure. Knowing he hadn’t been there fast enough to save her.

“Gather the body. We are going to give it a proper burial.”

“..But, sir–” one of the boys stammered.

“Did I ask for any questions?” he speaks, and they go silent, gathering the bleeding mass up in their arms.

He pockets the photo in his jacket, looking around the closed off warehouse. The two doors had been blown open, the girl undoubtedly being trapped. He takes note of the gun on the floor, not daring to dwell too much on the thought. _They’d promised._

They had promised to survive no matter the cost, but he doesn’t blame her for putting a bullet through her own head. To survive took a strong will...and the fear took over, and the want for a peaceful end overwhelmed the want to survive.

So he didn’t blame her. It was human. To be scared and overwhelmed and angry and....and done. She was still human and so he wasn’t angry...not at her at least. He supposed a part of him is human too.

The feeling of relief when he say that it was her...and not Gavin. It was okay to bring worth to one’s life more than another’s...right?

It doesn’t matter, he supposes. He just had to find Gavin and the others. They lost someone everyday, and her life would not be in vain and it would not be forgotten.

He picks up the marker laying not too far from her body, and writes on the wall. Writes and writes, until her name is bold and bright and high for everyone to see. He writes it once. Twice. Over and over again, covering the entire mass of the concrete floor and the pillar where she’d been laying.

From the corner of his eye, he can see his men begin to drag the body out of the warehouse, shooting nay unfortunate that had the misfortune of approaching them.

“Sir...what do we put on the marking?”

“Chen..” he mumbles softly. “Tina Chen.”

And he continues writing...until the ink fades away from the marker, her name whispering away with the black.

 

_-o-_

 

Gavin sat down on the forest floor, feeling the grass tickle his bare hands and feet. They’d taken his shoes. It was smart, and it ensured his captivity even without all the nbindings. Going out with a pair of shoes was as good as suicide.

His fingers tremble, clinging desperately to the cup of water they had gifted him with,a nd he didn’t to waste a single drop of the pure nectar. He took another sip, feeling the cool slide down past his crackling throat like honey. It was oddly sweet. He wonders if it’s just his thirst or maybe they had added something to the water.

Connor didn’t let Gavin go close to the crowd of people waiting in a circle, instead opting to drag him away, into a deep underground tunnel. The grass ending around a certain patch, as Connor pulled it up, revealing a set of stairs.

Gavin stared wide eyes at the secret passage. Was this how they stayed out of sight? No...it couldn't be. It still didn’t explain the row of cabins and huts. Nonetheless, he followed, curiosity shrouding his instinct to run in an instant.

“Where are we going?”

“My room.” Connor replied after a beat and Gavin felt his heart thunder. Rooms? _They had rooms?!_

Underground it is like a maze, winding and turning around in a unorganized manner, reminding Gavin much of the past. Grey concrete walls, illuminated by a single string of lights running down the halls.

It’s not long before they stop, and Gavin is greeted to a small gray metal door. It isn’t before Gavin notices the big bolt on the door handle, does he move back, but Connor has his wrist in an instant.

He knows escape is futile whether he ran or not, but he couldn't’ help but feel the fear crawl up to the tip of his fingertips, telling him to run. To run and never look back.

The door oflings open, and Connor shoves Gavin inside. He stumbles, trying to regain his footing. He looks up, feeling suffocated around these gray walls.

No windows...just a small light, and it’s all too familiar, dragging Gavin farther and farther back to when the virus had first broken out, and he remembers. He remembers everything. His betrayal. The reason for his mother’s death. The reason his friends died...the reason they were still hunting him, and he wants to run...and run...and run...

He takes in a sharp breath, a piercing screech reeling him back to the present. It’s all too familiar. The same screeched he heard every morning come. “Please don’t tell me, that was what I think it was.”

Connor rolls his eyes, closing the door behind him. “Oh quit being dramatic. We can’t get rid of all the freaks down here, so we just have to learn to share the place.”

Gavin’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “ _Share?!_ ” he yelled in a hushed whisper, the fear of alerting such a creature gnawing at his bones. “Are you fucking crazy?!”

“I prefer the term creative, but I suppose that works too.”

Gavin didn’t know what to think...he was stuck..in a confined room, with a psychopath and unfortunates running just across the hall.

_“Why, you scared?”_

Gavin doesn’t reply. Doesn’t give this fucking ken doll the satisfaction of knowing. Instead, he opts to falling onto the bed before him, feeling his muscles begin to water at the soft touch of the mattress. Fucking hell, they had beds. _Beds!_

Connor lets out a chuckle, and sits across from him. “I suppose you can sleep here..unless of course, you’d rather sleep on the floor or in the hall, but there is no guarantee that you won’t see a freak or come across a few rats. No promises.”

Gavin swallows backing up closer to the wall, trying to stay as far away from the brunet as possible, which wasn’t that much, considering it was a twin-sized mattress. He turns around, facing his back to the other, and closes his eyes, not daring to fall asleep just yet.

It was just to avoid more conversation, Gavin told himself, but even he knew his own lies. The bed was comforting, and Gavin was a fucking selfish human being. If Chris is taking a nice long nap than so can he. It’s only fair...besides what can a few hours hurt?

There are no blankets he notes, shivering, and feeling the cold envelope his body like a second layer of clothing, btu he doesn’t ask the other for any. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of his pride. He’s handles the cold before..and this was nothing. Nothing.

The door was locked, and secure...and if anything, he had this tall-ass human right next to him. Another inhuman scream pierces through the air, and Gavin winces, closing his eyes tighter, trying to shut out the outside world once and for all.

“Don’t worry,” Connor’s voice echoes across the room, a hand coming put o play with his hair in curiosity. Gavin swear it's the lack of energy that is keeping him from swatting the hand away, but he knows it's the fear. “I’ll keep you safe. _They are scared of me."_

 

He doesn’t dare ask why.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize before hand, this chapter is not my best work, and more of a filler, but it does have some plot progression in it. It's also like 3 am..and I have lost all will and energy to grammar check this, so there will probably be some mistakes. 
> 
> Other than that, I hope your all enjoyed this chapter? The next one will be longer and a lot more...revealing? 
> 
> Idk how to describe it. Either way, I have most of the plot ready for this story, but if any of you have any suggestions for the plot, please do comment below, I will take everything into consideration. Criticism and feedback is also appreciated. I know Connor seems a little OOC, but it'll make sense as the story progresses.
> 
> Enjoy?

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, first chapter! Hope you guys like it! It's a little OOC, but that's because they are like 5 years into the apocalypse, and everyone has gone through stuff that I can't reveal because I don't want to give the plot away. Hope you guys liked this chapter!! And if anyone if wondering who the brunet is near the end...it's Connor. I hope i made that clear? I'm not sure, so I'm letting everyone know here.
> 
>  
> 
> See a mistake? Tell me. Both criticism and suggestions for the plot are greatly appreciated!


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